Comstock was appalled at what he saw next. Fifty feet away a small huddle of women stood against a wall. They were in panic, frozen at the sight of their husbands being slaughtered. They gathered close, arms wrapped around one another. The five women kept quiet, their mouths not daring utter a sound.
It didn’t matter, though. One of the nasties looked up from his meal, guts rolling out of his mouth, shaking his head, bits of meat dropping to the ground.
“Gra-grak!” it uttered. Then, it sprang up, running on all fours at breakneck speed, bounding toward the frozen women.
Comstock raised his rifle, zeroing his red dot on the creature’s chest. His finger grazed the trigger.
“Not smart, Sergeant,” York said. Comstock turned and York continued, saying, “They’ll charge if they hear it.”
Comstock turned back, looking down the street. Then, he spoke, saying, “Well, York, you wanted a fight. Here it is.”
Dale Comstock fired three bullets into the charging creature of the night, filling the air with more gunfire.
Then all hell broke loose.
102
Rivers, Clements, Thompson and Svetlana hurried down the southern edge of the village. They could hear the gunfire, helpless to aide. They continued down the path, hearing the creatures scatter by, hearing them snatch away innocent humans, bringing them back to the cave.
The four rounded a pile of rubble, and stopped in their tracks.
A woman, dressed head to toe in a burka, stood in front of them. Her face was exposed. She was young, late teens, and her face was quite beautiful.
“Fuck man, I almost shot her,” Clements said, bringing his M240 down.
“It’s just a villager. Let’s keep moving,” Rivers stated.
“Damn, my pack is heavy. Why the fuck am I carrying your shit. Oh, that’s right… cause a SEAL can’t bear the weight.”
“Trust me, we’ll need it soon,” Rivers said. “Let’s go!”
The four started to walk past, but something about the woman stopped them. Instincts kicked in, the situation was all wrong. She should have been afraid, petrified, but instead the woman smiled. Perfect eyes, skin, lips. Her smile grew wider and wider…
… and wider.
“That’s fucking impossible,” Thompson whispered.
The woman’s mouth now covered most of her face, jaw protruding, rows of teeth glaring at the men.
“Um, what the fuck is she doing?” Clements asked.
A moment later and Rivers shouted, “Shoot her!”
“What? I’m not shooting some innocent woman,” Clements barked, looking back.
With reflexes like a panther, Rivers shoved Clements aside. He raised his AK-47, finger on the trigger. But he paused, he couldn’t help it. Luckily, he didn’t wait long.
A massive tail rose from behind the woman. It stretched high up above her head. Rivers noticed its tip was pointy, a strange fluid dripping out.
Then, from the woman’s sleeves, what should have been hands extended. Instead, they were half hand, half claw. They clattered at him, clicking, all the while the giant tail behind her swaying back and forth like a Cobra.
It was mesmerizing.
Then, the tail struck. It came fast, from high up. Rivers moved just in time, tucking to the left, grabbing Svetlana as he went down. He screamed, “Shoot it!”
Clements was horrified at the sight, and happy to oblige. He stepped forward, braced himself, and let his M240 automatic bark glorious thunder.
The rounds ripped the creature to shreds.
Once the body crumbled, no longer a threat, all four huddled together.
“What the fuck was that?” Thompson exclaimed.
“One of the creatures,” Svetlana replied.
“We better get going,” Rivers said. “We hurry up this wall, reach the eastern side of the village stat!”
“Shit, you want to run into more of those?” Clements asked.
“Country Fuck, have you looked behind us?”
Clements turned, and to his horror saw a group of eight beasts. Some were on all fours, one had what looked like tentacles growing from its face. They were slender, hardly clothed, hardly identifiable as anything human except their general form.
All had lanky arms.
All were pale in color.
“Ah fuck, run!” Clements shouted.
Rivers grabbed Svetlana’s hand, yanking her hard as they rushed up the wall.
Clements and Thompson opened fired, spraying the creatures with forty or fifty rounds before turning and following as fast as they could.
They could hear the trampling feet at their backs.
103
Meanwhile, Delta One, Two and Seven had neared the location of the shots. They had since ceased, and the three feared the worse. They moved like a giant snake, slithering up the roadway, covering all angles, engaging anything that moved.
The creatures jumped from buildings, from windows, from shadows.
“To your left!” Dale shouted just in time.
Jefferson sprayed two with three round bursts from his M4.
York raced up ten meters, to another alley, taking kneeling position and firing at a dozen headed down the wide path. He screamed as he fired, taking great pleasure in killing as many as he could.
Jefferson ran up, helping engage, followed by Dale.
They moved closer and closer, nearing the last known location of Five and Six. They searched, killing creatures and looking down alleys. There was too much carnage, too much chaos.
“Sergeant,” York called out.
Gunfire erupted once more.
“Sergeant Comstock!” York screamed.
Dale turned back.
“They’re dead. Accept it. We need to get out of the village.”
“We don’t leave a man behind.”
“Hear that?” York asked. “Your boy Clements, that’s his M240. They have some trouble. Ahead of us though. Close to the edge of the village.”
Dale thought a moment, though he didn’t have long. The creatures were regrouping, and he scanned down a dark alley, seeing dozens flock past on the adjacent street. They were headed to their rear. The creatures were flanking them.
Impossible, he thought.
Dale decided York was right. “Fine. Move forward, call out your mag changes. We hit the outer wall. We’re not that far away. Jefferson, watch our rear.”
Onward and onward they moved, down street after street, fighting a bloody battle for survival.
104
Clements would turn and spray, killing a handful, then turn and run again, Thompson always at his side. He could hear the AK-47’s distinct sound in front, as Rivers cleared their path, checked their corners as they passed alleyways.
They were getting closer.
To their left, they heard quite the gunfight. The roar of M4s filled the night. Sounded like three, though it was tough to tell.
To their right, high up in the cliffs, Rivers thought he could hear the report of a rifle. Sure enough, as they closed in on the easterly side of the village, a mob of creatures, these also white, yet more deformed, appeared.
Then, Rivers saw one drop.
Crack.
Then another.
Crack.
He could hear the rifle report in the distance, knew Reynolds was helping out. One shot one kill, the Marine was doing well.
Rivers’ radio barked to life. “Hollywood One, tuck down that alley. Do it now,” Reynolds said.
Rivers didn’t question the sniper, and yanked Svetlana to the left, into the village. Thompson followed. Clements wasn’t far behind, and just as he turned from the rear, he stopped cold. Ahead were two dozen of the creatures. Some looked like deformed insects, others like reptiles blended with humans. It was a horror fest to the likes a man like Clements could not even comprehend. He opened fire, spraying the crowd as Reynolds fired from above.